


the god of night and stars

by apocalyvse



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Dogs, Fluff, Gen, Hades Loves Dogs, Magic, Post-Descendants 3, Sort Of, everybody loves dogs, hades is team dad, honestly, the dog just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 13:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20243443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalyvse/pseuds/apocalyvse
Summary: It's supposed to be a party, but Audrey can still feel the magic running through her veins.Hades just wants some space.





	the god of night and stars

**Author's Note:**

> what even is the ending to this, lol. improvisation at its best.
> 
> I've taken a lot of creative liberties here. Enjoy.

Night falls on their first day of freedom with a bright and brilliant sunset, the colours of the sky so vivid that the Isle kids all stop for a moment to stare at it in wonder. They come from a world of bright and bizarre things, but they have never seen a sunset, not properly. The barrier always leeched the colour from the sky, leaving it a sickly and bleached yellow. This sky is brilliant, wide and unending and full of life.

Hades has seen the sky before. Sunset is more of a reprieve than a wonder, for him; he’s been hiding in the shadows, half alive on that island, for so long now that the glare of the sun, the towering parapets and roofs of the castle he now stands under, are almost overwhelming. The dark of the night makes everything softer, reminds him of the underground (soon, he will return to the underworld, but not yet, not yet). The stars alight overhead and though they are far away, he can feel the warmth of their fire. Stars burn hot, just like him, and while they are not his domain, he can still take comfort from them.

He thinks he is alone, out here on a nondescript balcony, the party inside none-the-wiser to his absence. But this is where the girl finds him, when she decides she is ready to seek him out.

Audrey, that’s her name. _Princess_ Audrey. She’s not like the other kids he knows. She’s soft and she’s – well, not _sweet_, but not made of tempered steel, beaten into shape over years of hard living. Not like the Isle kids; like the gangs that run the streets, or crafty Celia, who even he couldn’t cheat out of a deal. Or Mal. No…not like Mal at all.

He hadn’t really expected her to want anything do with him, so it surprises him a little when she appears somewhere to his left, looking very timid and uncertain of herself (it doesn’t sit right on her face; she has the grace of someone who is used to ruling a room). She’d thrown a tantrum and cursed a few people, sure, but she was still an Auradon girl, and he was…well, everyone knew his name. Whether he was Hades of the Isle or Hades of the Underworld, Auradon kept him at arm’s length. No one invites death into their house willingly.

But here she is; without even a friend to back her up. “Excuse me?” she inquires politely, her hands tucked together in front of her. He straightens slowly and turns to acknowledge her, trying not to judge her pretty pink gown and soft blonde locks with too much disdain (_<strike>she would never survive on the Isle</strike>)._

“You lost, princess?” Hades asks, and leans one elbow against the edge of the balcony. He can’t help the snide comment, but there is no real sting in his voice. He’s been on the Isle for years, can you blame him if he’s a bit rough around the edges?

“No, I’m-” She starts and then stops again and Hades’ eyes narrow; _this_ is the worst villain Auradon’s new generation could produce? “I was looking for you, actually. To thank you.”

“Ah.” He stands straight and stretches like a lazy cat. “Just doing my part. _Long live Auradon_ and all that.” His voice is tinged with sarcasm. The princess almost laughs.

“You saved my life,” she continues, when she composes herself. “Even though you’re a – you’re from the-”

“From the Isle?” he finishes for her, and laughs. “I’m not _from_ the Isle, princess. And you don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you.”

“Why did you do it then?”

The question surprises him, so much that he almost does a double-take. His fingers creep into his pocket and wrap around the ember, warm and comforting. “For myself,” he says casually and shrugs. “Why did you curse the entire country with stolen magic?”

Audrey pales. “…for myself,” she stutter, like she’s only just come to the realisation. “For revenge. I heard it calling me, and I thought I could-”

He holds up a hand, stopping her midsentence. “I know what it feels like,” he says (he’d been so _desperate_ for a taste of the ember’s power, so hungry for five minutes out here where he could see the strings of fate and feel the crushing force of the waters of Hell). “No thanks necessary.” He turns to leave, the ember turning over and over between his restless fingers.

He takes two steps before her voice interrupts him again. “How do you control it?” she asks and he stops short. _Just when he thinks one princess couldn’t bring him any more surprises._

Hades swings around again, giving her a questioning look. “They said they put it back in the museum, where it can’t get to me,” she explains hesitantly, her eyes wandering towards the open door behind him like she’s fearful that someone will overhear them. “But I can still feel it, pulling me…how do you stop it?”

She takes a step forward, her eyes begging him for an answer, and Hades realises suddenly that she is alone and desperate, a silly child who has messed with things she was never taught to use, and who doesn’t know how to suffer the consequences. And how would she? She’s never had to suffer anything in her life. Her royal parents would never have allowed their daughter to go wanting, would never dare expose her to the harsh realities of life, or the dangers magic could pose.

Hades takes a measured breath, in and out. His method of parenting might not be the kindest – he wouldn’t claim to be anything but a lousy parent, he knows where he stands – but a little tough love would have done this girl some good.

“Hell if I princess,” he replies, and surprises even himself by sounding more sympathetic than flippant. “Do I look like I’ve ever tried to resist magic?”

He removes his hand from his pocket, showing her the ember pressed into his palm. She looks vaguely ill at the sight of it. Is she scared of it? Or is she scared of him, now that she knows his power is right there in his pocket?

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, in a very unprincesslike way. “I don’t know why I thought…I shouldn’t have asked. I apologise.” She looks around for an exit, but the only way out is past him. Hades frowns at her.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, and clutches the ember a little tighter. Flames lick at his fingers, bright blue and hot as Hell’s deepest caverns. Audrey visibly jumps at the sight of them. “Look,” Hades says, and forces his hand to relax. “You can’t deny magic, it’s too late for that now. If you want to control it, you can’t fear it. It has to fear you.”

The uncertainty slips from her face, replaced by an expression that is just as troubled. “But I don’t want to be feared,” she says. “I’m not a – a _villain_. I just want to be nice again.”

Hades laughs. “That ship has sailed, sweetheart. Can’t you feel it in your bones? You’re magic now, and the universe knows it. If you want to resist that sceptre, you’re going to have to own what you’ve done.”

Her lips press together in a thin line as she thinks about it, staring hard at her feet. Hades takes a moment to wonder when he became a therapist. Just another unexpected development of the day.

“How do I stop being afraid of it?” she asks eventually, choosing her words carefully.

Hades considers her, sizing her up. Too soft and tame for his liking, but there’s something there, hidden under the pretty curls and the fear in her eyes. There must be, for her to have done the things she did. If he tries to help her, will she learn? Will she learn to adapt? Or will it only be a matter of time before that sceptre calls back, and Mal comes looking for a lend of his powers again?

“Give me your hand,” he says, and steps closer, close enough to touch her. She offers her hand, and he turns it palm up. Gently, he places his ember in her hand.

Her breath audibly catches in her throat, and she rips her hand away in fear. The ember clatters to the ground between them; Hades snaps his boot down on top of it before it can skitter off the edge of the balcony. “Careful!” he hisses as he picks it up, rubbing his thumb across its crystalline surface. No damage done. “It’s not going to burn you or anything. Just hold it.”

“W-what if I do something bad with it?” she asks.

“It won’t work for you,” he tells her quite firmly. “And it’s nothing to be scared of. Just hold it. Feel the power of it. It’ll show you what _control_ means.”

He holds it out expectantly. Slowly, hesitantly, she reaches out and takes it from him, holding it gingerly in her palm. It dims a little in her grasp; there’s not even a _bit _of Hades in her blood, nothing of the underworld that could awaken the stone. As it cools in her grasp, Audrey slowly relaxes. She even dares to turn it over in her palm, studying the fire that swirls slowly in its depths.

“Audrey? What are you-” A boy with salt and pepper curls stumbles through the door and stops short when he realises there are two people out here. Carlos De Vil, Hades recognises. Used to run with the markets gang, back on the Isle. He’s a friend of Mal’s.

“Oh,” Carlos says, and looks between them in confusion. “H-hi Mr – uh…Hades. Is everything…okay out here?”

“Everything’s fine!” Audrey says in a high, bright voice that is almost _too_ fake. She presses the ember back into Hades’ hand. He takes it with a sort of bemusement, and watches as she fixes her hair and paints her _perfect princess_ impression back on her face. “I got a little lost on the way back to the party, but I think I know the way back now. See you down there?” She doesn’t wait for a response, just skirts around Carlos and makes her escape without so much as a backwards glance.

Carlos is so confused he forgets to be suitable afraid when he looks to Hades for answers. “Better keep an eye on that one,” the god advises, and then completely freezes when his eyes track down to the dog clutched in the boy’s arms.

“You have a dog,” he says dumbly, which is probably even more damaging to his reputation than letting a princess run off with her soul intact.

“I do…yeah…” Carlos says slowly and backs up a bit, arms tightening around the dog. Hades shakes himself. Imagine it, the God of Death losing his shit over a dog.

“You like dogs?” he asks casually, slipping the ember back into his pocket and guiding the boy back into the hallway, away from the balcony and the night chill that’s starting to creep in.

“Yeah!” Carlos says and some of his suspicion slides away. “Wait, you have a dog too, don’t you? In, um, in the underworld?”

“Cerberus,” Hades supplies, and smiles fondly at the thought of the beast. “A lot bigger than your dog though. Three heads. Big growl.” He gestures aimlessly in the air, in a way that vaguely conveys the ferocity of his dog.

“Yeah, I bet,” Carlos supplies with a grin and a friendly chuckle. He seems to run out of things to say then, shuffling his feet and adjusting his hold on the dog awkwardly.

“Should we go downstairs?” Hades offers, feeling unusually kind this evening, rather than enjoying watching the boy squirm. “I think I’ve had enough of the fresh air for tonight.”

“Yeah,” Carlos says with a relieved smile. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

They walk in companionable silence, back to the celebrations, and the rest of the night.


End file.
